In Outer Reaches of Space, Arash goes on a monologue rant about the inconvenience of shopping to his girlfriend without realizing she’s in a store.
Arash: Can you run in and ask someone if they have exactly what you are looking for? I can’t stand waiting in this—I’m gonna get heat stroke, I feel it coming on—just go in there, ask the lady if she has the cream you want, if she says no, leave, if she says yes, buy it. Please. Don’t go and have another two hour conversation about where she’s from and asking about discounts and all the bullshit stories you make up to try and get a deal, cause I can’t take it.
Honestly, I’m like a heart attack away from death. Angie, you don’t understand. I know I sound crazy, cause you’ve gotten me worked up to this point. Look at me, I can’t even control myself cause I feel overwhelmed with all these fragrances in the air—so deep in my nostrils, I can’t even breathe anymore, it burns my throat and I wonder, you know, I walk through the store wondering how in the hell do people that work here, surivive such smells, all day long. Like, if I worked here, I’d be in a different department, I couldn’t do perfumes or colognes or whatever that posionous gas is, I’d DIE.
I rather work in the shoe section or suits, yeah, maybe the suits where things are calm, less customers, people are a little more assertive. I can’t stand the madness. All this running around, jumping over one another, sweating with the hot flashes going on and the constant search for the best item for the best deal. I can’t take it. I get dizzy, frustrated, annoyed, grumpy, sarcastic, violent, well no, not violent but I feel violent, which makes me worse cause I don’t act on my violent feelings cause I’m a gentleman, and the restraint bubbles up under my neck, slowly strangling me, that’s why, that’s why I’m freaking hot—